Copyright AL.com
This is an opinion column. From Lafayette Park, north of the White House, you can’t see what’s happening to the East Wing. Roads are closed and tall plywood walls block the view. But you can hear it — jackhammers pounding, tractor engines groaning, the thunderous echoes of bricks and mortar being poured into the beds of dump trucks. There’s a demolition happening, and you might think the Trump Administration doesn’t want anyone to see, but we in the South know better. What’s happening on the other side of that barricade — that’s Southern-style FU politics. This is the United States of Alabama, and now the rest of the country is waking up to what that means. FU politics are old Alabama politics. When the federal courts told Birmingham it had to let Black people use public parks, not only did Birmingham close its public golf courses, but it sent police to pour cement in the holes, just to make sure no one got in a quick nine while nobody was looking. That’s FU politics. When the courts told Montgomery it had to let Black kids swim in its public pools, it filled those pools with dirt. That’s FU politics. When Bobby Kennedy came to Alabama to tell the state to treat all people like people, did George Wallace roll out the red carpet? Heck, no. He raised a Confederate battle flag over the capitol, where it stayed until 1993. That’s FU politics. But don’t walk away with the impression that this sort of business is a thing of the past. Whenever anyone has asked Kay Ivey whether Alabama might expand Medicaid, the governor has answered the question with a question: Where’s the money? But wait … We need $2 billion for new prisons? That’s no problem. We’ll even name the prison after her. Because that’s FU politics. When the state passes a voter ID law requiring a government-issued photo ID to vote, but the Alabama GOP chairman votes with a badge he made himself — and then nothing happens to him … That’s FU politics, too. FU politics is the politics of we shall not be told. It’s the politics of we don’t have to follow your rules. Heck, we don’t have to follow our own rules, and if you try to make us … FU! My grandmother would have said we don’t talk like that, but we sure as heck act like that. When the White House press secretary answers questions with “Your mom”? That’s FU politics. When we can’t fund the government, but the president can somehow find the money for a gaudy ballroom bigger than the White House itself and one no one but him seems to want? That’s FU politics. When Arizona voters choose a Democrat for office but the House speaker won’t seat her because it might lead to the Epstein files getting out? That’s FU politics. When the president pardons violent insurrectionists, crypto creeps and corrupt political pals but then he sicks the Justice Department on people prosecutors say shouldn’t be charged, just because he doesn’t like them? That’s really FU politics. When it’s the 250th anniversary of the birth of American democracy and the president wants to celebrate that moment with an Ultimate Fighting cage match — something John McCain once called “human cockfighting” — on the White House lawn? That’s FU politics. Because there’s nothing sacred anymore. Only the profane. Donald Trump has leveraged FU politics so well that now some Democrats want to get into the act. They would be wise to refrain. These stunts might look effective now, but we in Alabama know in our hearts, they come with a price. When you fill in holes on the golf course greens, no one gets to play golf. When you turn swimming pools back into patches of grass, no one gets to swim. FU politics is the politics of cutting off your nose to spite your face. It’s the politics of self-defeat. There’s a reason Alabama ranks 48th and 49th in so many things. Because when you practice FU politics, in the end, you F@%& yourself.
